


Kissing Cherries

by Ilthit



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Community: femslash_kink, Drug Use, F/F, Ficlet, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilthit/pseuds/Ilthit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fondling in the forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing Cherries

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Femslash-Kink.

A part of Annie knows she's high. She never touched pot back in high school and this isn't anything like the popping intensity of Adderall or a beer-induced smudgy fuzz, but her mind has been altered often enough to recognize chemical interference. The trouble is, she doesn't care. She doesn't even care that the drugs are probably the reason she doesn't care.

The foliage above her keeps shifting, spiraling up towards the clarity of black sky above. She is spinning upwards and downwards at the same time, suspended between the great and the small, and everything in the world loves her, even the ants scurrying across the tree-trunk she's leaning on. Annie tells them hello. Like a Disney princess.

Britta is saying something, but it doesn't register. She's rubbing her face on Annie's arm and her hair is soft; it tickles. She'll have to remember this, Britta's hair across the inside of her wrist like angel's feet. She pulls her closer.

Britta's face is in her bosom, then her hand is slipping under Annie's shirt and her mouth is seeking Annie's neck. Across from them, Troy has thrown his head back and is giggling uncontrollably, which makes Annie smile, too.

Britta's hands have slipped under Annie's cheap loose bra, thumb and forefinger gently rolling her nipples into hardness. Annie shifts her legs, a pleasant tingle in her pussy as if the ants had turned into fairies and were pointing their tiny magic wands between her legs, but no it's just Britta and her fingers stretching fabric sticky on her neck like fur and they hang between sky and the furnace surrounded by pinpricks of light as the fairy ants burn themselves out and somebody is talking again. Annie lets her head fall back against the trunk as Britta makes sounds against her skin. She is a conduit.

Later, after the berries wear off, Annie is almost certain it didn't really happen, so why mention it? She imagined a lot of things that night, and will, in the nights to come, between her duvet and the sheets.

 


End file.
